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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27838309">Always a Nice Guy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter'>ProsperDemeter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>20 Days of Holiday Fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:40:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27838309</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Apparently Liz had asked Flash for advice, steadfastly ignored his very reasonable reason not to ask, and then proceeded to frame out exactly how she was going to ask him with her giggle group of girl friends. </p><p>   And that put Harry in a very difficult spot. </p><p>    One, because he wasn’t exactly single. Two, because he was a nice guy. And Three.… </p><p>    Well three, she asked him in front of the entire decathlon team." </p><p>Three times Harry gets asked out and the one time he doesn't have to say no.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Osborn &amp; Flash Thompson, Harry Osborn/Peter Parker, Liz Allan &amp; Harry Osborn, Michelle Jones &amp; Ned Leeds &amp; Peter Parker, Ned Leeds &amp; Harry Osborn &amp; Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>20 Days of Holiday Fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>233</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Always a Nice Guy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to the second holiday fic of the season! </p><p>I'm not exactly a #1 of this fic but... I hope you enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><ol>
<li><span>Liz</span></li>
</ol><hr/><p>
  
  <span>Okay, so maybe he </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> have been shocked on the Liz front but Harry had it on good authority that one of his redeeming qualities was his inability to accept that anyone actually liked him. By </span>
  <em>
    <span>good authority</span>
  </em>
  <span> he clearly meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>Peter</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Peter had clearly meant it as more of a condemnation than a compliment but potato patato, Harry would accept a compliment however he deemed it necessary to do so. What was even more unfair about the entire thing was that literally everyone had been aware it was coming </span>
  <em>
    <span>except</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harry. Apparently Liz had asked Flash for advice, steadfastly ignored his very reasonable reason </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to ask, and then proceeded to frame out exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was going to ask him with her giggle group of girl friends. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And that put Harry in a very difficult spot. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>One, because he wasn’t exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>single</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Two, because he was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice guy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And Three.… </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Well </span>
  <em>
    <span>three</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she asked him in front of the entire decathlon team. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Mister Harrison looked just as uncomfortable as Harry felt. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He was sure his face matched the color of his hair, Peter was absolutely no help - the </span>
  <em>
    <span>traitor</span>
  </em>
  <span> - and, sure, Harry was used to being the center of attention (his last name was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Osborn</span>
  </em>
  <span> of course he was used to it) but everyone was </span>
  <em>
    <span>staring at him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Liz…” He trailed off pathetically and twisted the rainbow - </span>
  <em>
    <span>rainbow!</span>
  </em>
  <span> How could she have missed it! - bracelet around his wrist like a lifeline. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good guy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He hadn’t led her on or even </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretended</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be anything other than what he was! He had come out to his father when he was ten, had started dating Peter at eleven, and yeah they weren’t obnoxious about it but May told him that they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>obvious</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Maybe she was just oblivious, or terribly hopeful, but Harry was trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be nice</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he didn’t know what to say to keep </span>
  <em>
    <span>being nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Peter pursed his lips and hid his face behind a hand in an effort to, pathetically, hide how hard he was laughing at Harry’s misery. Flash nudged him with wide, exaggerated eyes and Harry shrugged. Uselessly. Pathetically. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Because the entire situation </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> laughable, really. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Miss Allan… this isn’t exactly the place for this conversation.” Mister Harrison took apparent pity on Harry if the look he sent him was anything to go by. “Back to the topic at hand… is everyone okay with meeting at the school at eight tomorrow?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The group murmured their consent, Flash glanced at Harry with his still wide eyes and Peter, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the traitor</span>
  </em>
  <span>, tried to get back into his good graces by placing a warm, comforting hand on his knee. Harry hated, perhaps, how much it worked. Liz shuffled back to her seat, head down and long hair covering her face. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>It seemed as though no answer was, in fact, an answer. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Harry’s stomach heaved. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> Liz. He considered them friends even. They had worked together on a biology project the year before and really clicked - sure her dad was weird but so was his - and he didn’t actually want to hurt her. And he actually knew just how much courage it took to ask someone out (although, maybe not </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> the amount of courage it took to ask someone that wasn’t single out in front of a large group of people). “I’ll call you when I get home?” He said distractedly to Peter at the end of the meeting, stuffing his things into his messenger bag before slinging it over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Peter, beautiful, kind, </span>
  <em>
    <span>asshole</span>
  </em>
  <span> Peter, smiled back and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheekbone - just enough to leave him blushing which was clearly Peter’s aim - and nodded. “Cool. I’ve got the internship tonight so…” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>internship</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” </span>
</p><p><span>“Maybe I’ll </span><em><span>swing</span></em> <em><span>by</span></em><span> tonight.” Peter’s eyes sparkled. </span></p><p>
  
  <span>“Be sure you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>swing into</span>
  </em>
  <span> a closed window again.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Leave it open this time.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Mmm,” Harry walked away backwards, lips pursed and face screwed up in his best impersonation of thinking very hard. “I thought you had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tingle</span>
  </em>
  <span> for that.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Don’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Harry winked at Peter’s flush and spun on his heel just in time to see Liz shut her locker dejectedly. She heaved a deep, long, sigh and tossed her bag over her shoulder. “Hey, Liz!” He jogged to meet her side, matching her stride seamlessly. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Hey, Harry,” She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear but looked anywhere but </span>
  <em>
    <span>at</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“About what you asked…” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“It’s okay. I… I get it.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I don’t think you do.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Her eyes flashed as though insulted and Liz pursed her lips tight to glare at him spitefully. She looked a bit more like her father - and a little bit like </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> father but Harry wasn’t going to delve into that - when she was angry. “You don’t have to insult me too. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>smart</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you know -.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, nononono.” Harry flailed his hands uselessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I put myself out there and that takes </span>
  <em>
    <span>courage</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Harry Osborn. I’d like to see you do something that difficult without paying your way into making it -.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> not fair!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said no but you don’t have to make me seem like an idiot for asking!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>gay</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> have to be so </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude</span>
  </em>
  <span> -!” She cut herself off abruptly. “Wait, what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>gay</span>
  </em>
  <span>! And I’m not even </span>
  <em>
    <span>single</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>insult</span>
  </em>
  <span> you by not even answering in the first place when </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> decided to ask in front of a group of people and then not even give me a second to explain the situation. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>how dare you</span>
  </em>
  <span> assume that </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>in my life is easy or that I pay my way through </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> not fair and downright </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the sake of being mean.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She deflated. “Oh.” Liz twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “You’re… into guys?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Harry stressed. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>Flash told you that already.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her cheeks colored. “I thought he was just saying that to get me not to ask.” She covered her face with a hand and moaned. “Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I feel so dumb.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, we’ve all done stupid things.” Harry’s own angry flush dissipated and yet, when he glanced over his shoulder, he noticed Peter standing by the door still, brown eyes concerned and, perhaps, a little bit angry on his behalf. “Liz, I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I shouldn’t have even put you on the spot like that.” Liz heaved a big sigh and her shoulders dropped down from her ears. “So you’re not single, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I’m not.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Do I know the guy?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Oh Liz,” He linked his arm through hers and pulled her comfortably into his side. “When I tell you, you’re going to feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“How long have you been dating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since we were, like, eleven.” </span>
</p><hr/><ol>
<li><span>MJ</span></li>
</ol><hr/><p>
  
  <span>“She likes me,” Harry said from his spot lounging beside Peter and Ned, ankles crossed and boat shoes glittering in the New York City summertime sun. Ned laughed at the purely affronted look on Peter’s face and then even more at the shit eating grin on Harry’s. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“She does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>  like you.” Peter argued and although most things looked good on him, denial wasn’t one that made the cut. “MJ doesn’t like anyone.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“She liked you.” Harry pointed out, alluding to the rather awkward first few months of MJ and Peter’s friendship where she had fumbled around him like an angrily lovesick adult cat. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Ned hid his third laugh behind his ice cream cone. “He’s got a point.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“See? Ned thinks I have a point.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Betrayal</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Peter muttered and stood up smoothly. “I’m going to the bathroom to escape this attack.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Not at all because you actually have to go.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“No,” he stuck his chin in the air and stalked away, made it halfway to the bathroom and then ran back. The kiss he gave the corner of Harry’s mouth was quick and chaste - they </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> in public and out with Ned, after all - but it was a kiss all the same. “I’ll be right back.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Mhm. I’ll have a new girlfriend when you get back.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Ned!” Peter begged their ice cream clad friend (seriously, his cone had all but melted into a sticky mess that coated his hand). </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Ned waved him off. “I’ll make sure to film it for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Subtly, though not as subtly as they could have, Harry and Ned bumped the knuckles of their fists together. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ned!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“God, Peter, we’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>joking</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Harry said with an exaggerated eye roll. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And though it was Peter, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> know that they were simply joking, he instead proceeded to employ his impossible to resist puppy dog eyes. “Promise?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Go to the bathroom before you have an accident, Parker.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He smiled brilliantly - and what did it mean that Harry, even after </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> of being together, still got a little winded when that smile was directed at him - and ran off to do just that and Harry settled back onto the palms of his hands comfortably, chin tilted up towards the sun. It was peaceful for a while after that, just him and Ned and the noise of the park around them. It was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span> day out, the middle of the summer, and Harry was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>looking forward to his sudden transfer to a different school than the other two for the last three years of high school. A new school was one thing, a whole other country </span>
  <em>
    <span>another</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and a </span>
  <em>
    <span>private school</span>
  </em>
  <span> the absolute final straw. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>It was as though his father had suddenly and completely gotten tired of having him around. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“This spot taken?” A shadow fell over where he sat with Ned, the head almost touching the water of the small pond and when Harry tilted his head back it was to MJ hovering over them. She held a book of Slyvia Plath poetry against her hip - beat up and well loved - and a sweater tied around her waist (for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>aesthetic</span>
  </em>
  <span> because it was close to ninety out and Harry really hoped she hadn’t decided to wear it even earlier that morning). Her hair was in tight curls and a tighter ponytail around the back of her neck and her lips pulled themselves up into a small smile when they made eye contact. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Hey, MJ!” Ned parrotted and gestured for her to sit in either empty space. She folded herself between the two of them, her elbow brushing against Harry’s as she found a comfortable position. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“You’re too pale for this weather.” She noted after a moment of staring at his bare legs. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He nodded pathetically in agreement. “I’m bathing nightly in sunscreen.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“How’s that working for you?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“It’s not.” He had a sunburn that traveled the length of his neck to the tops of his swim trunks. Peter had been kind enough to lend him a shirt for the day after their trip to the ocean the day before. The cotton shirt was already painfully uncomfortable against his back and just the mere mention made him shift uncomfortably. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>MJ winced in sympathy - she didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> sympathy with most people - and patted his arm consolingly. “What’s winter like in France?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Pretty much the same as here.” Harry would have to know anyway. He was being shipped there by the beginning of September. “It’s going to be miserable, though.” He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> looking forward to it. He had actually noticed Peter trying his absolute hardest </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to think about it and Harry was right on with him except, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> kept bringing it up. Ned, just that morning, May during dinner the night before, Flash on Wednesday asking how he wanted his goodbye party set up, his father with daily text messages to make sure that he had everything he would need before he went off to live a literal ocean away. He itched at the tip of his nose and pushed his sunglasses more firmly up onto his face. “How’s your summer going?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>They hadn’t seen much of each other since the school year had ended - MJ had taken up a volunteer position and Harry lived on the complete opposite side of the city than most of his school friends. Peter was the only one Harry really went out of his way to see - he had been joining the Parkers for family dinner since he was nine and May wouldn’t let him back out now even if he wanted to. MJ heaved a deep sigh and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s going. I kind of can’t wait to be back at school.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Nerd.” Ned teased around a mouthful of ice cream. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“You’re losing all your ice cream there.” MJ teased back and flipped open her book. “You want to grab some sometime?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Hmm?” Harry hummed and Ned did something absolutely comical with his head to try and reach the remaining third of his ice cream cone. They should have gotten him a bowl. How could they have forgotten that Ned was terrible at eating ice cream cones in a short amount of time? Had they </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> been friends for a long time? </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Ice cream. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> eat that right?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Yeah?” Harry blinked and noticed the slight red to her cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Oh. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Oh no</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Not again. “Cool. Then we’ll grab some sometime, yeah? Just us?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Oh Harry </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing this. He glanced almost desperately over his shoulder for Peter and nearly groaned when he saw him, instead, bent down petting a dog about halfway back to them from the bathroom. Damn dogs. They got him every time. Hoping that through sheer power of his stare he could compel Peter to turn around he impressed a look of pure helplessness in his direction. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>It didn’t work. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He shouldn’t have been shocked. “Yeah,” he swallowed around the lump of awkwardness in his throat. “You’re one of my best friends, MJ. I’m sorry we didn’t get to hang out much this summer yet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Thankfully, out of their group of four, MJ was the only one that was good at picking up on subtlety. She frowned down at her book and nodded instead of answering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt like the absolute worst friend in the history of friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ned looked at them curiously and Harry could only shrug. “Oh, hey, MJ!” Peter finally arrived back at their side, slightly breathless and </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> too sweaty but the sun reflected off his hair perfectly and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Peter</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t have freckles that liked to be darker the sunnier it got. He dropped with an elegance that had only existed in him from the spiderbite onwards and slung an arm carelessly over Harry’s shoulder. “Smile!” He held his phone out in front of them, pushed up Harry’s sunglasses with a careless finger so that they sat atop his orange hair and pressed a long and lingering kiss to his cheek just to get his favorite soft smile on Harry’s face. The phone took the picture and Peter instantly saved it. “How awkward was that?” He whispered against the shell of Harry’s ear, his breath curling around the skin and making him shiver. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were listening?” Harry muttered back, saw the way Peter shrugged uselessly and shoved at his shoulder. “Dick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t help it.” Peter whined. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” MJ said softly and blinked at the two of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Ned piped up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry groaned, covered his face in his hands and dropped back against the cool grass. </span>
</p><hr/><ol>
<li><span>Flash</span></li>
</ol><hr/><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Flash</span>
  </em>
  <span> - Eugene Thompson, Harry’s second oldest friend - he hadn’t seen coming from a mile away. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> agreed with him on that one. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Perhaps it was his whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>toxic masculinity </span>
  </em>
  <span>schtick. Or maybe it was just that it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Flash</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Harry had actually considered him incapable of romantically liking </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> but when it happened Harry hadn’t exactly known what to do. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>For one, Flash </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was in a relationship. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>For another, Flash knew he was in a relationship with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Peter</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And finally, Flash knew that Harry literally only saw him as a best friend. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Still, Harry had crashed their opera showing field-trip </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Peter had disappeared to go be Europe’s off brand Spider-Man, and Harry swore he had only grabbed onto Flash’s hand in the commotion because he didn’t want his friend to run off and get eaten by a fire monster that rivaled that angry island lady from Moana. Be that as it may, Harry had a good excuse for not noticing his friend’s odd behavior. After all, someone was trying to murder his boyfriend, his father was blowing up his phone, and Ned was </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>mysteriously missing. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He was not in the mood to process Flash’s emotions. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Mister Harrison hadn’t even noticed their new edition of Harry - he had probably seen him and, in the panic, had assumed he was one of his students again. That was fine with him, Harry would have much rather been Mister Harrison’s student again than have to worry about somehow contacting his school when his phone had only 5% charge left. He bounced on the balls of his feet, uncuffed his dress shirt and paced the plush carpeted floor of Flash’s hotel room. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not ready</span>
  </em>
  <span> to potentially lose Peter Parker. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And not to a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire monster</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all things. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Hey, man,” Flash called from his spot on the edge of his bed, shoes kicked off by the door in a neat line, blazer tossed over the back of the desk chair, and dress shirt unbuttoned to show his peach orange shirt underneath. “You’ve got to chill. I’m sure he’s fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Chill. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Chill</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  
  <span>Okay, Harry got it, he really did. Flash didn’t know about Peter’s extra-curricular activity and he didn’t care to know. As far as Flash knew Peter was simply the guy that Harry was too afraid to dump. Which was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> on so many levels. Peter was, by far, the best part of Harry Osborn. He wouldn’t be as well adjusted or nice or </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> other than his father’s perfect little clone if it wasn’t for Peter Parker. He loved him. More than he loved anyone or anything. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And Harry had heard it all before - they were too young, there was no way someone as young as they were could have found their other half so early in life, a first boyfriend was never the forever boyfriend - but he couldn’t imagine a life without Peter in it. They had been through so much in seventeen years of life together and Harry thought they had proved themselves. At least </span>
  <em>
    <span>to</span>
  </em>
  <span> themselves. “There is a literal fire monster attacking this city and my boyfriend is missing.” Harry said dryly and continued to pace. “I’m not going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>chill</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Right,” the bed creaked as Flash stood up and on Harry’s next pass he grabbed him by the elbows and pulled him to a stop. They stood face to face, nearly nose to nose and toe to toe. Harry was a little bit shorter than him, his nose at his friend’s chin (the perfect height to match Peter at maybe an inch taller). “He’s always making you worry, man.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“If I didn’t worry I wouldn’t care.” Harry repeated his life’s mantra. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And then suddenly Flash was ducking down, almost as though he was about to tell a secret, and his breath brushed against Harry’s lips. He pulled away with a loud and affronted huff. “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Harry’s elbows pulled themselves out of Flash’s grip and he folded his arms tightly around his own chest in a small effort to protect. Against what he wasn’t sure because Flash was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>dangerous. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I thought we could try something, right?” Flash’s hand ran through his hair nervously and he gnawed on his bottom lip without looking Harry in the eye. “He’s the only guy you’ve dated and… I don’t know, we could try, yeah? And if it doesn’t work we can still be friends and -.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Harry snapped. Sure, it was unnecessary and he instantly felt remorseful, yet his nerves were shot and his life long friendship with Flash meant literally nothing more than frustration at that moment. “You don’t get to decide if we can still be friends after pulling a stunt like that!”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Harry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I don’t… I don’t have anyone else and…” And he didn’t have anyone else. The two of them had bonded for years over absentee and terrible parents. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“So </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk to me</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t just try to kiss me!” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I know, I know,” Flash groaned. “I’m sorry, I just…” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The door slammed behind Harry a moment later, and he wasn’t acting rationally, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> that, but rational wasn’t always his strong suit. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He waited in the hallway outside of Peter’s room, sat on the floor, and buried his stinging eyes in the bridge of his arms. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>+1. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  
  <span>“I have a question,” It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>undoubtedly </span>
  </em>
  <span>Peter’s voice, muffled as it was behind the mask and coyly hanging from one hand off the balcony. His feet hovered over the ground, and the ease in which he supported his own weight on one arm and a single strand of webbing was much more impressive than Harry wanted to give him credit for. Still, he hadn’t seen him in almost a year in person, and through a phone screen didn’t do him anything but a disservice. Harry beamed from behind the rim of his paper coffee cup, eyes sparkling. It was cold in New York, it always was in winter, and even if the city never slept most of its occupants occasionally did. “Is it </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a nice guy like you to be out and about on Christmas Eve night all by himself?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Cocky. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Arrogant. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Spider-Man. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Isn’t it your job to protect the citizens of New York, Mister Man?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Peter scoffed. “Excuse you, it is Mister Spiderson.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Spider-Man Spiderson?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Spider-Man Arachnidboy Spiderson.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry laughed despite himself, ducked his head and brushed the cold tip of his nose against the woolen sleeve of his coat. “Mon dieu.” He said the words softly and he knew Peter well enough to see the way he melted even in the suit with the mask on at the tone of his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cocked his head and it looked a bit funny with the blue mask pulled down over his hair. “Is one of those for me?” He nodded at the second paper cup Harry held - hot chocolate from his favorite little bistro - his expression hopeful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mister Spiderson, I am a taken man.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bummer.” The incredibly expressive Spider-Man eyes winked - or did their best impersonation of a wink - after the word passed his lips. “Figures a guy like you would be taken.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a lucky guy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, there’s no doubt about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” His feet touched the ground soundlessly and he settled in step beside Harry on the sidewalk. “Mind if I escort you home?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As long as you don’t get the wrong idea.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a taken man.” The red and blue gloves held up hands in surrender. “I know when to take a no.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Harry smiled despite himself and was more than a little bit happy that the cold air had already made his cheeks red as it hid his blush from view. They walked in relative silence then, and he had to admit, it felt incredibly lucky that the city that was almost constantly in the middle of one crisis or another had finally calmed down. It was after two blocks that it seemed Peter got impatient, took a glance around them, and pulled Harry sharply into a dark and empty alleyway. His back hit the brick wall and it was only due to quick reflexes that he didn’t spill the drinks. “Hey,” He sputtered but almost instantly fell silent, as Peter’s lips had already come crashing into his own, a hand grabbing onto one of the cups to place it on the top of a dumpster beside them before curling around his waist. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>It was as though his kiss melted whatever chill had settled over Harry’s skin, and with a free hand it was easier to keep Peter held in close. They broke apart with a soft suction, foreheads pressed together and breath mingling between their frozen lips. Peter looked better than Harry remembered, his cheeks red, brown eyes warm, and baby fat melting away from his face. “It’s midnight.” He said after a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy anniversary,  Peter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy anniversary, Harry.”</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>“So </span>
  <em>
    <span>Spider-Man</span>
  </em>
  <span> tried to pick me up.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I’ll fight him.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“He would crush you, Parker.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>offended </span>
  </em>
  <span>you think so little of me.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments and kudos spread holiday cheer.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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